Sick
by Candaru
Summary: Molly Blyndefff hates getting sick. While most kids jump at the chance to stay home from school, for her, such an ordeal only means more work to suffer through... but not if her friends have anything to say about it. (Molly sickfic, platonic Gio&Sylvie&Molly, no shipping, rated T for safety)


(A/N: My part of a writing/art trade I did for merasalaminz on tumblr! They requested a sick Molly being taken care of by Sylvie and Gio, so here it is ^^)

(For anyone else interested: over on epitheterasedgen I'm currently accepting art of mom!Percy as payment for any EE gen/non-ship writing, because my EE obsession is too hard right now, agsdfhjkl. However, I only promise a ~1,000 word oneshot; this particular one just happened to get a little long)

* * *

Molly Blyndeff hated being sick.

She supposed that was normal— who actually liked coughing fits and spasms and feeling like a wet noodle?— but unlike most kids her age, she didn't even like the thought of staying home from school. For most kids, staying home meant playing video games and watching TV while their parents coddled them and let them off chores for the day.

Not Molly. For her, staying home meant running the store in her father's absence, because "if you're going to stay home anyway, you might as well!" He always acted like running the store was just sitting at a counter and punching numbers at a register, when he knew very well it was much more than that. It meant sweeping up the area and balancing on a ladder to restock shelves; it meant dealing with angry customers and cheapskates who wanted to make off with free merchandise. Sometimes it meant putting up with the temper tantrums of five-year-olds whose parents never learned how to say "no" and therefore forced Molly to suffer through high-pitched wailing until they left the store.

So whenever she had even the slightest possible option, Molly always chose to go to school, suffering a cough or two over the possibility of a mental breakdown.

But today she winced as she checked her temperature, pulling the plastic, beeping contraption that blinked a bright red out of her mouth. 102.9. There was no was she could go to school today; if the nurse took her temperature, she'd just be sent home, and then she'd have to walk since her dad would undoubtedly be "busy."

So it was with a heavy heart that she told her family of the situation over breakfast, promising to exert herself too much even though neither of them asked it of her. Her dad said he'd call the school so they'd excuse the absence— (wow, gee, how kind of him to punch in his parent card so early)— and her sister called her a ninny and then vanished outside with her dad. Molly heaved a heavy sigh as she gathered up all the dishes from the table and carried them over to the sink to wash.

All by herself.

Again.

Suddenly, she noticed her phone lying on the counter and had a thought. _Boss always told me to call him if I ever needed something._ It was a selfish thought, but…

She shook her head. No, no, Giovanni always told her not to think like that. _You matter just as much as anyone else,_ his words rang in her head. If she was too sick to stay home from school, she was probably too sick to run the store. And besides, her whole body ached at the thought of getting to lie down on the couch.

So it was with a huff of determination that she walked to the front of the store— making sure the car wasn't parked on the street first, signaling that her other family members were long gone— and flipped the sign to "closed." Then she walked back through the storefront and onto the couch to send a quick text.

**[Boss]**

Sorry to bother you, but I'm really sick and have to stay home from school today. Do you mind coming over to restock some stuff? I don't think I should be lifting heavy boxes. But you don't have to run the store or anything [LOL] I can just close it for the day.

She reread the message several times, wondering if she was over-explaining herself. But she hit "send" before she had a chance to change her mind, and before she even got up from the couch, she saw the three little dots alerting her that Giovanni was typing back.

Ofc! Omw ;3ccc

Yeah, that was Giovanni, all right. She smiled slightly at the screen, and then swiped over to her groupchat with Trixie and Phoenicia to ask them about the homework she was going to miss while she waited for Giovanni to arrive.

* * *

It didn't take long before the obnoxious beeping of a car horn told Molly that Giovanni had pulled up outside.

Hurrying as fast as her wobbling legs would carry her (ugh— she hated that weak, wobbly feeling), she opened the door to see the pink-haired man with his hair done up in a ponytail, a pair of yellow latex gloves on his hands, and a huge white bag with a red cross made out of tape stuck to the side. He looked comically like an overprotective mom.

"Bear Trap!" he exclaimed, pulling the girl into a hug and causing her to launch into her first couching fit. He clucked his tongue. "Oh, no, no, my minions don't get sick like that on my watch."

"Um… Giovanni?" Molly asked uneasily as the man strutted behind the store and started unpacking his things in the living-space. "I only asked you to come over to restock."

"And I will!" he declared. "Once you're taken care of, that is. You sound awful, and luckily for you, your boss just happens to be the best at taking care of his sick minions!"

"O-Oh," Molly said, blinking in surprise. She watched as he pulled out the contents of the bag— hand-knit blankets, a large crock-pot, a sterile multi-use thermometer, a stethoscope…

"Um, Boss? Where did you get all that stuff?" Molly asked hesitantly, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

Giovanni performed what he probably thought was an intimidating laugh. "The answer to that, my dear Bear Trap, is a long and treacherous story, which I can tell later once you're bundled up with some of my homemade soup."

"Oh, right!" Molly exclaimed, in a moment of sheer _yeah-duh-I-should've-remembered-this._ "You can make soup!"

"And better than any stinkin' restaurant, too," Giovanni added, carrying the empty crock-pot into the kitchen. "Now you lie down and let your boss tell you all about the dangerous exploits he and his boys pulled off back when Flamethrower was sick!"

"...you swiped that stuff from a hospital, didn't you," Molly asked, eyeing the thermometer and stethoscope.

"Shh, don't interrupt," Giovanni shot back, slightly annoyed. He dug around the kitchen until he found a pink apron (actually, one that used to belong to Molly's mom, but she decided not to bring that up) and tied it around himself. Then he washed his hands and started running around fetching mix-ins for the soup as he began his story.

"Now, it was flu season, and you know how it gets when flu season rolls around…"

* * *

It was about two hours later, as Molly was finishing her second bowl of vegetable soup (which was very good), that Giovanni started going through all the drawers in the house.

At first, Molly just watched, figuring she'd best not interrupt him and he would explain himself soon enough. But as he grew more and more visibly frustrated, she finally asked, "What are you looking for? I know where pretty much everything is."

He groaned and glared over at her. "Where the heck is your medicine cabinet?"

"Huh?" Molly blinked. "O-oh, it's in the bathroom. But, um—"

Before she could finish her thought, she could already hear slamming noises coming from the downstairs bathroom. She waited, biting her lip, for Giovanni to come out.

"...but I think it's pretty much empty," she finished as he did.

"Yeah, I figured," he replied dryly, pulling out his phone. "Seriously, why didn't you tell me before I came over? Now you're dragging Sylvie into this since I can't just leave you alone. Not that I mind anything that gets that high-horse out of his house…"

"Wait, no, no, no, no," Molly cried, "don't make him—"

"Too late," Giovanni replied casually as his phone played the Disney Channel commercial tone. "He already replied." He paused, then squinted at the screen. "Bear Trap, what's the difference between a psychologist and a psychiatrist?" Before Molly could reply, he shook his head. "Eh, whatever. He's on his way."

"Ohh…" Molly groaned. Her stomach flipped a little at the thought that she'd interrupted Sylvie's day. Giovanni was one thing; he lived with his mom and spent most of his day doing… "crime things." But Sylvie had a _job_, he had _work_ to do—

"Uhhh, Bear Trap?" Giovanni asked, a hint of concern to his voice. "You doing okay?"

Then he said something else, but Molly couldn't hear him. It took her about a minute of him frantically waving his hands in the air before she realized what was happening.

"Ah! Ah, I'm so, so sorry," she apologized sheepishly, consciously willing down her epithet. Another coughing fit interrupted her words, which bothered her, as it had subsided a bit immediately after drinking Giovanni's soup. "My epithet acts up sometimes when I'm sick, so…"

"Huh, really?" Giovanni asked, stroking his chin. "I basically, like, never get sick, so... I wouldn't know. Cool beans, though!" He flashed a cringey pair of finger-guns, then looked back at his phone. "I asked you, 'what kind of medicine do you need?' I'm having Syl pick up some Nyquil for tonight, but in the meantime, are you aching anywhere? Should we get some Tylenol? We'll definitely need a thinner; that cough of yours is disgusting…"

"I-I'm really fine," Molly insisted, and then broke out coughing yet again, as if her body was trying to make a fool of her.

"Sorry, what's that?" Giovanni asked almost mockingly. "I can't hear you." He paused. "No, seriously, I couldn't hear what you just said. But it looked like you said you were fine, which is untrue, so I'm electing to ignore you, anyway."

Molly sighed, shaking her head. "I hope we didn't interrupt him in the middle of a session or something," she mumbled quietly.

"Eh, I'm sure he turns off his phone for that," Giovanni replied. "So, you got any movies we can watch in the meantime?"

* * *

By the time they finally agreed on a movie (one Molly had never seen before called Kindergarten Cop), Sylvester arrived with a plastic bag of meds and the longest receipt Molly had ever seen. He bore a near-somber expression, apparently having been overly concerned for Molly's health by the way Giovanni worded his texts.

"Sylvie, I'm fine, really," Molly assured him, suppressing down a cough as he fussed over her sitting-space on the couch.

"You don't sound fine," he muttered, casting frequent glances at Giovanni, who was playing with the remote.

"Hey, don't look at me," he defended, "I'm the good guy here. Well, technically I'm the bad guy, but in this case I'm the good guy."

"He _is_ right," Sylvie sighed, pulling out a bottle from his bag and shaking out two pills, scanning the label with incredible speed. "You really do need medicine. This is just over-the-counter stuff, but it should work fine."

"Thanks," Molly coughed, submissively taking the pills that were trust upon her and downing them with a swig of water. The further the day went, the worse she felt, and she was actually becoming glad that Giovanni and Sylvie were both by her side. Constantly blowing her nose had started a headache, and her legs were now so wobbly that she felt dizzy just walking from the couch to the kitchen.

"We were just about to watch one of the greatest movies of all time," Giovanni informed Sylvie, pointing to the title card on the TV with a grin.

"Oh, no," Sylvie said, "we are not watching that."

Giovanni frowned. "Well, you weren't here for the executive voting process."

"Because I was picking up _medicine!"_ Sylvester exclaimed.

Molly groaned. "Guys, calm down, we can just pick something else." _Even though that's going to take another hour of debating._

"Trust me," Sylvie said to Molly with a frown, "you don't want to follow his taste in movies. You're better than that. Why don't we watch something animated?"

"What, like Sailor Moon?" Giovanni asked, perking up.

"Wha— NO, NOT LIKE SAILOR MOON!" Sylvie yelled, quieting his voice when he noticed Molly wince in pain. "Geez. Weeb," he muttered under his breath.

"Oh, right, because Dora the Explorer is so much better," Giovanni shot back, waggling his hands to the sides of his head mockingly.

"Uh, for the record, _I_ was going to suggest a _classic._ Like Anastasia," Sylvie said, throwing a cocky hand to his chest.

_I should've known this would happen the minute they got together,_ Molly thought, somewhat defeated.

"Bear Trap," Giovanni suddenly said, turning towards the blanket-wrapped girl, "you're the sick one, so what do you think?"

"Um…" Molly paused. "Wait, like, out of the ones you guys suggested, or…?"

"No," both boys said at once. Then Giovanni tacked on, "whatever you want!"

"Oh. Ohh. Um, that's a lot of pressure," Molly replied nervously. Suddenly, a thought came to her. "Oh! Uh… actually, there's this really weird mini-series I like a lot; it's kinda obscure but I've shown it to Trixie and Phoenicia and…"

"Perfect," Sylvie interrupted. "We'll watch that, then."

Molly smiled and fumbled with the remote Giovanni tossed to her. "O-okay!" She pointed the remote at the television and clicked over to her favorite streaming site, VRV.

"Again, it's kinda weird," she warned, "so…"

"Bear Trap."

"Yeah?"

"Stop apologizing and turn on the show."

"Right."

* * *

By the time Molly was expecting her dad and sister to come home for dinner, she, Giovanni, and Sylvie had watched the entirety of Bee and PuppyCat, listened to every Bongo Cat cover on the internet, eaten an entire crock-pot of soup, and played seven games of Scrabble in a row (all of which Sylvester won until the last, when he finally got sick of playing and let Giovanni win just so they could move onto something else). Giovanni did keep to his word and restock the shelves at the very end of the day, while Sylvie was cleaning up around the kitchen despite Molly's protests.

"You sure you don't need anything else?" Giovanni asked, packing most of his things back into the big white bag. He left the blankets behind, which Molly was still happily wrapped up in.

"More than sure." She beamed the most sincere smile she could muster at both boys. "Thanks for coming over today. Especially you, Sylvie; I know you had work."

"Oh, no, it was my day off," Sylvie replied in surprise. He hesitated, then smiled shyly back. "But I would've taken work off to hang out with you anyway. You just be sure to get a lot of rest, okay?"

"Don't worry, I will," Molly said weakly, pulling out another tissue from her box and blowing her nose. The coughing hadn't really stopped all day, but hopefully the Nyquil would at least let her rest easy.

"For now, though," she said, "you'd better leave before Dad and my sister get home."

Giovanni nodded, and tucked her blanket firmer around her. She decided not to tell him she was going to have to get up in a minute anyway to prepare dinner. At least there was microwave lasagna in the fridge; she wouldn't really have to strain herself for that.

"Take care, Bear Trap," he said, patting her with his latex glove. Sylvie flashed her a thumbs-up, which she returned as the two walked out the front door looking like they came in together.

She blew her nose again and then sighed, stretching and getting up from the couch. She should probably start dinner.

But, it occurred to her, she still felt infinitely stronger than any other time she'd been sick and had to run the shop. She supposed it was because she'd been resting all day, even in the company of Gio and Sylvie. In fact, the time she'd spent with them had actually been… fun.

_Is this the sort of thing that makes kids like to get sick?_

Well, her legs still ached, and her headache hadn't gone away, and she expected she'd still be launched into a coughing fit every half-hour for the next few days. In other words, Molly Blyndeff still hated being sick.

But maybe now, she didn't hate staying home from school nearly so much.


End file.
